


Nick Gets Interrogated

by valis2



Series: Gratuitous Nick Hurt/Comfort [4]
Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valis2/pseuds/valis2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A case goes wrong, as they do, and Nick takes the brunt of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nick Gets Interrogated

**Author's Note:**

> This is exactly what the series title states: gratuitous Nick h/c. There is very little plot. No beta. Just Nick, and h/c.

* * *

The whole world seemed to be pressing down on Nick's head.

He tried to open his eyes but there was something preventing him. A blindfold? He could feel the scratch of fabric against his eyelids. He swallowed, his throat raw and burning.

Wave after wave of agony, pounding behind his eyes, almost unbearable. He hissed and tried to sit up. A wave of dizziness swirled around him, everything spinning and floating and turning him inside out. He could barely breathe, the spinning turning violent, and he held one hand splayed on the floor, desperate to keep grounded while the world turned around him like a gyroscope. Confusion fogged his thoughts, images and words melting together, and he wished for his Mom, for anyone, to guide him out of it.

A hand on his arm, a familiar voice murmuring in his ear, not Mom but just as comforting, and Nick succumbed to the blackness and let it swallow him whole.

* * *

Pain.

Nick woke, disoriented. He was lying on his side, a makeshift pillow under his head which felt lumpy and smelled like Cody's cologne.

_Where are we?_

He forced himself to concentrate past the agony in his head. His ankle burned, a familiar enough pain which meant he'd probably sprained it again. His ribs ached. He felt exhausted down to his very bones. 

The floor felt like concrete. Another jacket was lying on top of him. The cold stone seemed to seep right under his skin.

_What happened?_

He tried to remember, but there was nothing but shadows and murkiness in his head. He couldn't remember what they'd been doing. He dimly recalled a case with a blond woman, and trying to hide her, keep her safe...

He gritted his teeth against the pain that threatened to crush him. Wave after wave, the pressure hammering him with every pulse of his heart, the dark pushing down on him. He could not seem to fight through the confusion and figure out what was going on.

First things first. He touched the blindfold with his fingers, finding the edge, and pulled up on the material. 

The light seemed to pierce his skull like an ice pick. He snapped his eye shut, curling into a ball as the pain stabbed at him mercilessly, a bolt of agony shoved through his skull. 

"You need to keep the blindfold on," came Murray's voice, floating somewhere above his shoulder, and the blindfold was tugged back down in place. "You're having a reaction--"

"What's going on?" Cody's voice, breathless. Murray said something quietly and then Cody spoke again, very close this time. "Nick, just relax, okay? Try to rest."

"Where--" Nick coughed.

"Don't worry about that now." 

It seemed like a strange concept-- _what am I supposed to worry about, then?_ \--but he couldn't seem to stay with it for very long. The pain kept washing in and out, implacable, unyielding, and his thoughts muddled around in his head, making strange loops. He tried to focus but couldn't seem to pull it together. A familiar rasping voice said something in the distance, and Murray answered, the words chirping like crickets, and then everything slid to the right into the cold stone and went dark.

* * *

Nick groaned as he woke. Echoes bounced around his head, the ache still throbbing behind his eyes, horrible and unyielding. He gasped, putting the heel of his hand against his forehead, but there was no respite; it pulsed with each beat of his heart, the agony grinding him down.

He could still hear the echoes. They sounded far off, Cody and Murray and the raspy voice, discussing something in low, heated tones. He tried to remember what they'd been working on, whose case it was for, and he again remembered the blond, hiding her from her husband, but everything after that was a muddled mess. 

He concentrated, trying to put together the puzzle, and had brief glimpses of guys with hard fists, and the feeling of a needle in his arm. He shivered, gasping again. The cold floor felt like it had leached into every pore, and his teeth began to chatter.

The voices stopped abruptly, and he heard the sound of shoes slapping against the concrete. Cody's hand was on his arm, warm, reassuring. "He's cold," he said, sounding worried.

Murray's voice answered, and then Nick felt arms pulling him up. His head spun and he groaned.

"Almost there," said Cody, his voice reassuring. The spinning in Nick's head made his stomach lurch. More movement, and then suddenly he was pressed up against Cody's warm body. He sighed as Cody murmured something comforting, and rested his cheek against his shoulder.

"We still haven't tried the hinges," said Murray, sounding closer.

"Hinges?" said Nick, coughing again. His throat was raw.

"I told you, that won't work," rasped the familiar voice.

"Quinlan?" said Nick, confused.

"Yeah, Ryder." There was a pause. "The hinges won't work. As soon as we move those doors, they'll be on us."

"What's going on?" demanded Nick hoarsely.

"Shh, don't worry about it," said Cody soothingly.

"Cody--"

"He seems to be focusing better," said Murray. "We should tell him again." _Again?_

Cody sighed. "The case started when Lena--the blond--asked us to hide her because she suspected her husband was in trouble with some heavy players. We stashed her with Mama Jo's aunt, and then the heavy players caught us--and Quinlan--while we were trying to investigate her husband. They brought us to this old vineyard, and they locked me, Murray, and Quinlan in the underground wine storage tunnels and kept you up at the house. After three hours they threw you in here, too, and we haven't heard anything since."

Nick frowned and tried to arrange the words into meaningful patterns, but it was difficult. Something was missing, something important. "Why...why didn't they take you...or..."

"I don't know," said Cody evasively.

Sudden fright turned his bones to water. "I gave her up. I gave Lena up."

Cody grimaced. "Nick, we don't know that."

"Nothing else makes sense," insisted Nick.

"Even if you did," said Murray sensibly, "it was after three hours of--of torture--and you were drugged. You didn't even know your own name when they brought you back--"

"Murray--" said Cody warningly.

"--and there's no shame in that," he concluded. "You're lucky to be alive. And I'm sure that Eliza took care of Lena and kept her safe. She's a tough cookie."

Quinlan said something under his breath.

"Gotta get out of here," said Nick, coughing again. 

"We're trying," said Cody, sounding a little defensive. "But the tunnels go on forever, and there aren't any other ways out except the main set of doors, which are locked from the outside."

"But if we took the hinge pins out--" said Murray

"We don't have any tools," interrupted Cody.

"I think with a bit of leverage we could get them free. It's simple physics, Cody. You know what Archimedes said..." There was a pause, and then he continued hastily. "Or maybe you don't. 'Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.' There are pieces of metal and boards from the wine barrels, and if--"

"I think it's a good idea," said Quinlan unexpectedly.

"You do?" said Murray. "Oh, you do! We should s-s-s-start really s-s-s-soon--"

"Murray, you're shivering," said Cody worriedly. He shifted forward, and Nick's breath caught at the immediate dizziness that swamped him. More voices, arguing, while Nick's thoughts swam around his head, disorienting and almost incoherent.

"Nick, say something," said Cody, sounding desperate, and Nick focused on it, on the warm arms holding him.

"Yeah," he said weakly.

"You're going to be okay." Cody sounded relieved. "We'll get out of this. We're going to try Murray's plan--well, after Murray...uh...gets a little warmer."

"He's...okay?"

"Quinlan is helping him."

"Oh."

"I think you're done on this side," added Cody with some amusement. "How about we try to move you a little?"

Nick braced himself against the spinning, but it wasn't as bad as he thought, and soon enough he was resting against Cody's other shoulder. It felt good. His shivers were nearly gone, Cody's warm hand was stroking his arm, and he tried not to think about the incessant painful pounding in his head.

Quinlan and Murray were having a quiet conversation that he couldn't quite hear. He tried to concentrate on breathing, in, out, in, out, and ignore the pain, which felt just as strong, pounding behind his eyes. His ribs ached, his shoulder hurt, and he could feel bruises everywhere, but it paled in comparison to the agony in his head. He'd had a few migraine headaches as a teenager, and once in 'Nam, but that had been a long time ago, and he'd almost forgotten how savage they could be. He whimpered and felt Cody's arms tighten around him.

He tried to make sense of the facts. They were trapped in a wine cellar. He frowned. There had been light when he tried to take off the blindfold, so somebody was still paying an electrical bill. 

Three hours, Cody'd said. Plus at least another hour since he'd been put in the cellar. It had to be full dark now. He wondered if the doors were guarded. He furrowed his brow, trying to come up with a plan, and was immediately rewarded with another extra-strong spike of pain. His breath caught in his throat.

"Easy, Nick, c'mon, just relax," murmured Cody. 

For once, Nick obeyed, letting his thoughts slide away. Cody's warmth felt so good. Sleep eluded him, but he could at least just rest and save his strength for whatever came next.

"That's it," said Cody soothingly. "Just stay still."

Time seemed to go on forever, every heartbeat bringing a new throb of agony to his skull. He could smell the comforting scent of Cody's cologne, and he tried to stay strong.

Cody suddenly moved, leaning forward. "I'll help--"

"We can handle it," said Murray confidently. "Besides, right now I'm just going to be studying the hinges while...uh...the lieutenant scavenges for the raw materials we need."

"Ted," said Quinlan grimly. "If we're going to be stuck in this mess together, you might as well call me Ted."

"Okay," said Cody, sounding unconvinced. "But if you need--"

"We'll be fine," said Murray quickly. 

Footsteps receded in two different directions, and Cody slowly leaned back against the wall. Nick felt guilty; he knew that it couldn't possibly be comfortable for him. "I can--"

"No," said Cody immediately.

Nick frowned. He could hear Quinlan cursing from far off, along with something that sounded like a barrel falling.

"Lieuten--Ted?" called out Murray.

"I'm fine," said Quinlan. "Just keep--studying."

"He's almost as stubborn as you," said Cody softly.

Nick felt his indignation rise, but the pain in his head intensified, and he could only shudder. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he said when he could. "Just...wish this would stop."

"Murray thinks it's a reaction to the drugs." Cody stroked his arm gently. "They pumped you full of truth serums and psychotropics and all sorts of stuff. I'm just glad..."

"You're glad what?" prompted Nick when Cody didn't finish his sentence.

"I'm glad it isn't...that you..."

"...that I..."

"...I just was thinking about...Les Carter." Cody shuddered.

"I'm okay, Cody, I'm not...singing nursery rhymes."

"You don't know what you looked like when they brought you in," said Cody, his voice raw with emotion. "You were--you didn't--you didn't even know your own voice. You were calling out for your mom. They were laughing..." Cody shuddered again and then went still.

"'Sokay," said Nick. He realized his hand was tangled in Cody's shirt, but didn't have the energy to pull it away. "Just...need to find her. Lena."

"We'll be out of here soon." Cody's hand was back on his arm, warm and comforting.

"Mmm." He sighed and let himself relax. He could hear Murray and Quinlan arguing and the sound of metal being dragged across the floor.

More arguing. Nick fell into a half-sleep, and felt Cody's hands guiding him down to the floor, the warmth leaving him, concrete underneath his arm. Words in his ear that he couldn't quite understand. He could still feel the agony pulsing behind his eyes, the cold slowly traveling to his bones.

A loud bang startled him, and he came fully awake, shivering, his eyelids twitching under the blindfold. "Cody?" he gasped.

"Right here. It's okay, the door is off its hinges, we can get out. Can you stand up?" Cody's hands tried to pull him upright.

His head spun. "Yeah--think so--" The pain ricocheted off the back of his skull abruptly and he gasped, curling into a ball. Cody cursed.

After what seemed like an eternity, the agony relented slightly, and he was able to stand with Cody's help, though he could barely put weight on his ankle. "It's not far," said Cody. "I've got you...just lean on me..." 

"The house is dark." Murray's voice was suddenly next to them. "There aren't any cars. In fact, there's no sign of anyone at all."

"They left?" said Cody, surprised.

"Get a move on, Allen," said Quinlan.

Nick hissed as Cody put his arm around his waist. He must have bruised ribs, maybe even cracked, and it hurt. Cody murmured an apology and moved his arm slightly higher on his waist, which was barely tolerable. Together they moved forward out of the cold stale air of the wine storage tunnels into the warm California night. Nick's legs were shaky and his shoulder felt like it had nearly been pulled out of its socket, but he was determined to get them out of that hole. He put one foot in front of the other blindly, leaning on Cody as much as he could until he stopped.

"I'm going up to the house," said Quinlan. "You find a place to hide."

"Lieu--Ted, no, you shouldn't--" said Murray.

"I'll do a little recon. You all need to get under some cover in case they've left a guard here."

"But--"

"Boz--Murray, the house is dark. I don't think anybody's there. But I'll be damned if we've worked like dogs to get out of that stinking hole just to get put back in it. Now go hide."

"C'mon, Murray," said Cody quietly. "I need your help with Nick."

"Oh, of course," said Murray. "We could hide underneath this platform, I think...let me go see if it's suitable..." Footsteps raced off.

"We're going to turn a bit, three o'clock, and head forward for a couple hundred feet. Think you can manage that?"

"Yeah." Nick took a shaky step forward and nearly stumbled.

"Careful," said Cody, holding onto him tightly. "Just lean on me."

"I am." Tension jangled in every nerve. He felt completely exposed out in the open air, blind, unable to protect his friends. "C'mon, I'm fine."

"Take it slow." Cody supported him, and together they inched forward.

"It's open in the back," said Murray breathlessly. "I think we can get underneath it and crawl inside. It's too bad we don't have a flashlight--"

"If I'm wishing for something, I'm wishing for the Jimmy," said Nick. Cody didn't laugh.

Another agonizing hundred feet over gravel, Cody helping him with every step. They came to a stop. "Murray, where--oh, I see it. That's...kind of low..."

"It's the best place to hide, though, there's nowhere else. I really looked--"

"I've called Carlisle," said Quinlan, his voice making Nick jump and wince. "They tracked the call and they're on their way." There was the unmistakable sound of a gun safety being clicked off, and Nick breathed a sigh of relief that someone had a gun.

"That's great! So we don't need a hiding spot after all," said Murray.

"I think we should still hide," said Cody. "We have no idea how long it will take the police to get here, and we don't know if they're coming back."

"This your idea of a hiding spot?" asked Quinlan.

Murray sounded almost plaintive. "Well, I thought--"

"Headlights," said Cody in a low, frightened tone.

"Boy, that was fast--"

"It's too soon to be the cops," said Quinlan. "Murray, get inside."

Cody and Quinlan pulled Nick down to the ground and then dragged him across the gravel. He tried not to cry out. Whatever they were hiding underneath smelled overwhelmingly like vinegar, and he was crushed up against Cody. He could hear the crackle of gravel under the tires of the cars as they approached.

The cars came to a halt, and doors opened. "--and this time they better tell us where she is," said one voice. "I'm going to take the little one apart in front of them. That'll--"

"The door!" shouted another voice--a voice that made Nick shiver. "It's off its hinges."

"Paul, check it out." Footsteps ran off into the distance. "Dave--the house, take Joe with you. Rocky, get a flashlight and help Paul, and then check the grounds. I doubt they've gotten far. I'll call the boss."

A heavy wave of agony surged behind Nick's eyes, and he buried his face in Cody's shirt, trying just to breathe, trying to keep from making a noise. More footsteps, and Cody tensed next to him.

"They've gotta be close," said a different voice. "The Italian was pretty messed up, and it looks like they took him with."

A voice shouted from the house. "They were in here, and I think they used the phone!"

The voice-in-charge swore. "Let's head out. Everyone into the cars."

Boots crunched on the gravel very close to their hiding spot. "Hey--I think they might be under here--"

The far-off wail of a siren pierced the night. It had never sounded quite so good before. The voice-in-charge said something about hostages, and then there was noise and confusion, a gun being fired, Quinlan barking threats. A cacophony of sirens and shouting and gravel. Nick gritted his teeth and tried to stay calm, but it was difficult. The blindness was unnerving and his head rang with noise and pain.

Cody never let go.

"Quinlan?" asked a familiar voice. Carlisle? "Lieutenant, are you in there?"

"Yeah," came the answer. Murray said something quietly to him, and he answered equally quietly. 

"We've got six taken down. Were there more than that?" said Carlisle.

"No, that's all. I'm on my way." Noises of Quinlan crawling across gravel. "Ambulance here yet?"

"On its way," replied Carlisle.

"C'mon, Murray," said Quinlan. "Gimme your hand." 

"Thank you, Lieutenant," said Murray, and there was the sound of more gravel being displaced.

"Okay, now the lovebirds," said Quinlan. "Carlisle, go in there and help."

Hands pulled him out, Carlisle and Cody grunting with the effort, and then they were all back out into the clean, fresh air. Nick took a few deep breaths, his head on fire, his shoulder aching. The spinning feeling was building, and he rolled onto his side, trying to keep it together. Cody said something in an urgent tone of voice, and Quinlan and Carlisle both replied. The pain in his head ratcheted up another notch, the intensity of it making him sob, and Cody's hand was on his arm, giving him strength, but it wasn't enough. Everything pulse of his heart caused a new wave of agony to press against his eyeballs, crushing him with its intensity, and he could hardly catch his breath.

The wail of another siren, the sound thudding unpleasantly around his skull, and he sobbed again. There were shouts and the sound of footsteps, the crunch of gravel again, and then someone asking him questions. A thick band on his arm, tightening unpleasantly. Fingers prodding him. More questions. A sharp pain in the back of his hand, and then everything melted away into a strange wash of sliding colors.

* * *

Nick heard beeps. The scuff of a shoe on a floor.

He licked his lips. His mouth felt dry. The bed underneath him was soft.

He opened his eyes. The room was dark, with a little light coming from the screens of machines next to the bed. It made him wince a little, the light feeling unpleasant against his eyes. 

That's when he realized it. 

The agony was gone.

There was only the slightest headache left, a tiny reminder of the horrible pain he'd felt.

The absence of it was so wonderful that he nearly felt like crying. 

"Nick? Are you awake?" 

He looked next to the bed, where Cody sat, leaning forward in his chair, head cocked to one side.

"Hey," he managed.

Cody was up out of the chair like a shot, hand on his arm. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"'M okay. You? Murray?"

"Murray's asleep in the chair. I'm fine." Cody smiled at him. In the faint light, Nick could see that his clothes were rumpled and stained with dirt, and there was a wicked bruise high on one cheekbone.

With a rush of fright, he remembered the blond. "Lena?"

"She's fine. Better than fine." Cody grinned. "The heavy players are going down for a long time. Kidnapping a cop was a bad idea. Lena's husband has agreed to testify against them. And Eliza and Lena are going to take a trip to Cancun together. All in all, a good end to the case." His grin faded. "Except for what you went through." His hand trembled.

"I...I'm okay." He coughed.

"The doctors think so, too." Cody squeezed his arm. "The migraine was a reaction to the drugs, and they've mostly worked their way out of your system. Your shoulder was nearly dislocated, and you'll need to wear a sling for a couple days, and your ankle's sprained and you'll have to stay off it as much as possible for a while. Plus you have a couple cracked ribs." 

"Great."

"Yeah, I know, I know." He stroked his arm lightly. "But...but you're alive, Nick, you're here with us, you know who you are..." He choked back a sob.

Nick tried to cover his hand with his own, but his left arm was caught up in a sling. "Cody--I'm okay. We'll be okay."

Cody smiled wanly. "It was close this time. I think...too close."

"We got away." Nick felt tired down to his bones suddenly. "We're here, and the bad guys are going down." He shivered.

"Are you cold? I'll go get a blanket." Cody rushed off and came back with one, laying it on top of him, and the warmth sank through deliciously, sending Nick off to sleep.

* * *

Being in the hospital was maddening. Nick only wanted to get out, his patience stretched thin after tests and blood draws and x rays and doctors and nurses and bad food. Cody only left his side twice, and Murray left just once to go home to get clothes for them all, and came right back, bearing a bag full of bearclaws.

Which were delicious, of course.

Cody changed right away, and even though he hadn't showered he still looked perfect, as only Cody could, even with rumpled hair and dark circles under his eyes. Murray was full of nervous energy, his eyes aglow with an unusual light.

There was a knock at the door, and they all looked up to see Quinlan enter the room. 

"Hey, Quinlan," said Nick.

"Just came to tell you that we arrested the ringleader," announced Quinlan, gesturing with his right hand. "They're all going away for a long, long time."

"That's very boss!" said Murray. "Really great work...Ted."

Quinlan nodded, and then turned to Nick. "Feeling better, Ryder?"

Cody's eyebrows shot up. 

"Well, yeah, actually," said Nick. 

"Good," he said gruffly. "All right, see you around. And next time some blond gives you a sob story, and you ask me for help, I'm bringing the whole force along." He turned on his heel and left as quickly as he'd come in.

"That was unexpected," said Cody. He exchanged a glance with Nick. Murray beamed at them both.

* * *

Getting back aboard the Riptide was rough, but Nick managed with copious help from Murray and Cody. He felt wrung out. By the time they sat him down in the salon he was exhausted.

"Permission to come aboard?" said a woman's voice with a slight Scandinavian accent.

"Lena? Is that you?" asked Murray, peering up into the wheelhouse.

"Yes, Murray." The tall blond descended the steps, coming into the salon with a smile. "I wanted to thank you for all of your help. I am so lucky that you are so good at your job."

"The pleasure is all ours," said Murray, warmly hugging her.

She hugged Cody as well. "I have been deeply afraid for months, and this is a boon to me."

"How is your husband?" asked Murray.

She paused for a moment, a shadow crossing her fair face. "He is...fine. But we are not fine. I am going to divorce him. There are plenty of fish in the sea who are not committing...wrongdoings."

"I wish you all the luck in the world," said Cody. "You deserve someone better."

"Thank you." She shook Nick's hand. "Well, it is time for me to leave already, I am sorry. I will see you soon, yes?"

Murray nodded enthusiastically. "Sure!"

"Good day, Riptide Detective Agency." She waved and then went back up the steps and out through the wheelhouse.

"She's such a lovely lady," said Murray. "A really lovely lady, and I hope she does find someone special."

"Yeah, she really needs someone nice after being with that jerk," said Cody.

Nick yawned, and Murray and Cody exchanged a glance. 

"Time for bed," said Cody.

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon--"

"Bed," repeated Cody. Murray nodded.

"Fine," said Nick. He _was_ tired, after all. "But I'm brushing my teeth first."

"Deal." Cody grabbed his right arm and helped him stand up. His ribs protested at the movement. Between the three of them, he managed to get his teeth brushed and get under the covers with the least fuss--well, on his part, at least. Murray said a cheerful goodnight and left.

Cody lingered, sitting down on the edge of his bunk. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"I should be saying the same thing to you." Nick yawned again.

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon, Nick--" He caught himself and grinned. "So glad that...you're still with us." He caught his hand in his. "That was too close a call."

"Still here." Nick's eyes fluttered closed. "Thanks, buddy."

He barely heard Cody's reply as he slid into welcome sleep, overwhelmingly happy to be back aboard the Riptide where he belonged with his two best friends.


End file.
